Gabriel Medina ain't going anywhere.

I discovered Francis Ford Coppola’s seminal masterpiece The Godfather when I was sixteen, maybe seventeen, years old and was hooked from that opening wedding scene. Every frame grabbed my young attention, every operatic movement. Marlon Brando with his distinctive bulldog jaw, John Cazale as the bumbling Fredo, Scott Caan’s pappy James all hot and bothered, Al Pacino, playing Michael, as fresh as a daisy.

I loved it and could not imagine that filmmaking could reach a higher plane until racing to the video store, renting The Godfather part II and popping into the VHS. I had been vaguely aware that sequels could best (see: The Empire Strikes Back, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom) the original offering but to beat The Godfather?

Well, The Godfather part II did beat it and in every way. Young Vito, played flawlessly by Robert De Niro, Michael’s turn to black, it was flawless and I could not wait to get my trembling hands on The Godfather part III so back to the video store I raced, panting, out of breath.

Now, I had heard that The Godfather part III had its problems, that it wasn’t, maybe, up to standard but those damned critics didn’t know Coppola like I did. Didn’t share his vision.

Except the critics were right. The Godfather part III is, all things considered, a terrible, terrible film and maybe one of the worst ever made. Overacted, under-cooked, a smily gooey mess but there is one scene that still reverberates through cinematic history.

Which made me think about Gabriel Medina’s bombshell announcement, yesterday, that he would likely be withdrawing from the tour next year. Taking a “break” after one of the most dominant runs in competitive surfing history. A Brazilian in his prime just walking away.

But he won’t, will he.

Medina’s won’t miss Pipeline, he’ll be wildcarded right in and he’ll make it to the finals and will either beat, or lose to, Italo Ferreira. Since he’s already in Hawaii, he’ll surf Sunset and do well enough and be ranked either two or three. Sponsor obligations will force him to Portugal for the MEO Pro and he will stay two or three in the world, having to then go to Bells for more sponsor obligations.

Now, maybe he’ll skip Margs and maybe he’ll skip the Gold Coast but no way, no how, will he be skipping G-Land, Trestles, Rio, J-Bay or Teahupo’o and look at him, straight back to the second inaugural WSL Finals Day, rinse and repeat the next year and the next and the next.

Mikey Wright can choose to retire but for the best surfers in the world, the tour is an organized crime.

Never out. Always pulled back in.

Feast your eyes on Corleone Slater.

GOAT

The singular glories of World Surf League Finals Day on Lower Trestles cobbled stone is still reverberating through the hearts of professional surf fans everywhere. Oh, we’ve discussed in depth, here, here, here etc. but storylines are still sprouting from the field of gold.

Scotland’s best-ever surf export JP Currie noted, masterfully, how the 11x World Champion Kelly Slater delivered an “unmatched commentary performance” from the booth and he was exactly right.

It was peak Slater with all the garnishes, describing, opinionizing, taking complete control and euthanizing Turpel, Fanning, even Strider with his oratory.

One thing left off, though, was the absolute masterful shade he painted over Gabriel Medina’s third title.

As the elated Brazilian floated up the beach toward his adoring public, Slater offered, “I mean, really, I would’ve expected him to be sitting on, like, eight World Titles by now.”

And amazing, deftly pouring Medina’s glass half empty.

Even if Medina had gone on a torrid run, winning every single title after his first in 2014, it would still not be enough to match Slater’s 11.

Let that sink in for a minute, both Kelly Slater’s dominance and how every other professional surfer moving forward will only be a footnote.

Shade of which hues have never been discerned by the human eye.

Every color of grey.

The Greatest of All-Time.

Aloha.

In the height of the summer, the paradisiacal yet hellish (buy here) Hawaiian islands received a surge from mainland tourists breaking free from a year of lockdown. The influx, however, coincided with the new and nasty Covid-19 Delta variant and Hawaiian officials, including Governor David Ige, worried that the infrastructure could not handle the numbers so asked those mainland tourists to slow their roll.

“Reduce travel to Hawaii to essential business activities only.”

Woke locals, or “woke-als” seeing an opportunity, piggybacked on the Governor’s request declaring that tourism contributed to cultural genocide in Hawaii by “perpetuating harmful tropes like hyper-sexualized hula girls or doormat natives” etc.

Well, the tourists listened but according to a new Wall Street Journal expose, listened too well.

Hawaii’s Department of Business, Economic Development and Tourism show that passenger counts in recent weeks are down 30%, hotels are seeing cancellations every day, with 50% occupancy where it should be 75% to 80%, and hospitality workers are losing their full-time jobs, only being offered gigs on a week-to-week basis.

Fear is setting in that, unless the state authorities change their messaging, winter tourism will be decimated leaving many of the island’s residents in true financial turmoil.

On the plus side, colonized narratives redefining aloha will revert to previous meanings.

A win, all told.